


Nor Will the Flame Burn You

by BlametheCupcake



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Best Friends, Gen, Kidnapping, Male Friendship, Rescue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-20 23:19:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1529447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlametheCupcake/pseuds/BlametheCupcake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A prompt for the kink meme asked for a five times fic that showed how far Aramis is willing to go for Porthos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Valley of the Shadow of Death

_"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; And through the rivers, they will not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched, Nor will the flame burn you."_ -Isaiah 43:2 

 

“This is Porthos!” Aramis hissed, barely keeping his voice down. Standing in the courtyard of the Garrison was not the idea place to be having this conversation and Athos gripped his friends forearm and leaned in closely. 

“It’s a deathtrap. We’ll wait here for d'Artagnan to return with reinforcement.” Athos hated the words even as they came out of his mouth but with Porthos already in the hands of their enemy he couldn’t risk Aramis running off in a foolish rescue attempt. He understood his friends displeasure since they both had seen the bodies left behind by Amrhein in their quest to track down and stop the serial killer that had been plaguing Paris. Of course they hadn’t realized that Amrhein had an as of now unknown amount of associates until after Porthos had been taken while they had the killer in custody. They knew too little to go running around in Paris’ catacombs without at least a dozen men to provide backup as well to cover more ground. 

Anger and distress were clear on Aramis’ face but Athos knew he needed to be the voice of reason, but that didn’t mean he was without sympathy. He released his grip on his friend who to his surprise nodded. “I’m sorry, you’re right of course. d’Artagnan will be along soon.” 

Athos was surprised at how easily he friend was acquiescing but he was pleased none the less that he was seeing reason. He turned away ready to see if he could find a second entrance to the catacombs this time Aramis grabbed his arm. The elder musketeer turned to him in confusion and barely had time to register the fist flying at his before everything went dark.  
-  
“Athos? Athos!” Someone was shaking him and Athos swore that they would die as soon as his head quite pounding enough for him to lift his sword. 

“What happened to him? Where is Aramis?” The authoritative voice of Treville cut through the haze in his head and after a moment so did his words. Aramis. Where was Aramis and had they been together? They must have been if Treville was asking about him and concern propelled him into action.

“Athos? He’s coming around!” d’Artagnan’s voice was far too loud for his aching head and he glared up at him. He grabbed a handful of the young man’s shirt by the collar and used it to pull himself up and was as grateful as much as he was annoyed by the arm d’Artagnan put around his shoulder’s to help him. Treville was off his horse and stomping through the mud to help the newest musketeer pull Athos to his feet. 

“Did you see who attacked you? Where is Aramis?” The Captain asked his concern masked by a layer of irritation but Athos knew him well enough to see threw it. It was then that he remembered why he was on the street and who had put him there. Oh he was going to kill Aramis. 

“N-mph- no. We were watching the catacombs, they must have got the drop of us.” It wouldn’t do after all to say it was Aramis who knocked him unconscious and left him so he could run head long into danger against his direct order. Then again the look the Captain gave him said he was suspicious but knew he wasn’t going to like the truth and therefore was not going to ask. Treville nodded and moved away but d’Artagnan was still caught by the grip Athos had on his shirt. 

“I’m going to kill him.” He growled lowly and d’Artagnan raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Who?”

“Aramis.” At this point the young man looked like he though Athos had been hit rather harder then he imagined. “He knocked me out when I told him we needed to wait for backup.”

d’Artagnan’s eyebrows were at risk of getting lost in his hairline but he nodded along with him. “Well if he’s lucky Amrhein’s men will have finished him off before we get there.” 

One of the reasons Athos had not wanted to enter the catacombs without was that they were a maze of tunnels and the chances of stumbling into the one that happened to contain their friend and his captors seemed like poor odds but it seemed they wouldn’t have that problem now since Aramis had kindly left them a trail of bodies to follow. There had been two bodies right inside the entryway and while they had initially planned on splitting their forces between the three tunnels the discovery of another body down the left hand tunnel pointed them in the right direction. The farther they traveled the louder the sound of yelling became and within an instant they were sprinting down the tunnel. d’Artagnan with his youth took the lead and was first to burst into the room but Athos was right on his heels.

It turned out it was Porthos who had been yelling all during their flight down the tunnel and he continued to do so hurling abuse at the man who was trying his damnedest to drive knife threw Aramis’ eye. The whole situation was made even more bizarre considering Porthos was strapped down to a very sturdy looking wooden table with Aramis half on top of him grappling with the assailant for a knife.

d’Artagnan ran forward quickly and grabbed the man by the back of the jacket, pulling him off Aramis and tossing him across the room where he landed conveniently at Athos’ feet. His sword was at the man’s throat in an instant and the man wisely decided to drop his knife. Both Aramis and d’Artagnan set about freeing Porthos who was cursing soundly and seemed mindless of the multiple cuts and bruises that littered his torso and battering away Aramis’ probing hands. 

On top of the three bodies in the tunnels there were two more in the room not including the one live one who was quickly tied up and led out leaving just the four friends. Athos was glaring daggers and Aramis was very carefully avoiding his gaze by focusing on Porthos. It was a silent battle of wills with d’Artagnan and Porthos sharing looks and trying to make light hearted banter before fading off and looking uncomfortable. 

Aramis broke first. “I won’t apologize. They were seconds away from cutting out Porthos’ heart.”

As much as Athos wanted to strangle him with his bare hands he didn’t like the cuts Porthos was sporting and was willing to shelf the argument for the later time. “We will discuss this later.” He said icily with a voice full of promise. 

“Well.” d’Artagnan said clapping his hands together. “Let’s get out of here before we all catch something.”


	2. Crystallized, As I Lay Here and Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porthos can't swim. Also it's snowing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from Metallica's Trapped Under the Ice. There is a theme here somewhere.

“PORTHOS!”

Aramis’ shout cut through the air and d’Artagnan nearly impaled himself on his enemy’s sword due to distraction trying to find his friends. The snow was swirling so thickly that it was a challenge to see the swords flying. d’Artagnan barely managed to dodge a wild swing and responded with a thrust of his own that only just caught the man in the arm. He heard the sounds of steel on steel and the occasional shout but couldn’t make out more than vague outlines of his friends and their combatants. What he was missing was the silhouette of their resident giant and his booming voice. 

The young musketeer threw himself back into battle with a renewed ferocity and it took another minute before he was able to dispatch his opponent. He wasted no time running towards where the shout had come from and his blood froze at the sight of the man sprawled on his back with a sword stuck through his heart. Fearing the worse he rushed forward but the face that greeted him was not a familiar one, but the sword in his chest was.

Aramis’ sword stood grotesquely in the air swaying slightly from the wind and the force with which it was abandoned. He turned his eyes to the remaining men standing. Athos was fighting off three men on his own and it took him a moment longer to find Aramis standing by the railing of the bridge hurriedly stripping. The man had already shucked his belts and boots by the time d’Artagnan reached his side and cloak and jacket were immediately shoved into his arms. 

“What are you doing?!” He hollered, partially in confusion and partially to be heard of the roaring wind. 

“Porthos went over the railing!” Aramis was already climbing over the railing seemingly heedless of the freezing temperatures or the fact that there were large chunks of ice floating in the river below.

“Are you insane?” Aramis wasn’t paying attention anymore in favor of staring at the water below. “He can’t swim!”

d’Artagnan was known for his recklessness but even he knew a hopeless situation when he saw one. As much as it broke his heart he knew if Aramis went in it would be two musketeers they would be burying instead of one. Dropping the cloak and jacket he lunged forward hoping to catch his friend before he made his suicidal dive but the older musketeer was too quick. He could only stare in horror as his friend disappeared under the black depth below.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there before Athos came to stand by his side but d’Artagnan found he couldn’t bring himself to look at the other man. “Porthos went over the edge.” His voice was barely audible over the wind. “Aramis went after him.”

Though he had only known the men a relatively short period of time he already felt the loss sharply, he couldn’t imagine what it was like for Athos who had been friends with them for years. He was sure all hope was lost when, just barely visible through the snow, a dark shape broke the surface. A broken off shout echoed through the night but still they recognize the voice of Aramis. 

“There they are!” He shouted and with Athos at his heels they ran the length of the bridge and down to the water’s edge. They followed the river downstream where they could make out Aramis struggling in the water, the large still form of Porthos held tightly to his chest. The man struggled to keep them both afloat and moving toward the bank with only one arm to help propel them and more than once his head sunk below the water line only to pop up again moments later. Aramis was struggling to keep Porthos out of the water as much as he could even as the man’s dead weight was dragging him down over and over again. By the time Athos and d’Artagnan caught up with him the man, by some miracle and an inhuman amount of determination, the man had somehow managed to almost make it to shore. D’Artagnan started pulling off his boots and piled his sword and pistols into Athos’ arms followed shortly by his cloak and jacket. He didn’t give the man time to argue before he started wading in.

The water was like ice and immediately stole the breathe from his longs and seemed to sap the strength from his muscles. He couldn’t imagine what it was like spending minutes fully submerged. By the time he reached them the water was already up to his chest and Aramis was clearly at the end of his rope; the man kept slipping more and more frequently beneath the water. When they came within his reached he grabbed Porthos and wrapped one of the man’s arms around his shoulder and Aramis floundered at having his cargo suddenly shifted. It took him a moment to resurface and when he did his eyes were full of hazy confusion. Together they managed to pull their unconscious friend to shore where Athos descended on them, wrapping cloaks and jackets around their shivering forms.

Porthos had been fully clad when he when in but now his hat and cloak were missing along with his pistols and Aramis’ belongings were still on the bridge so they had to make due with two cloaks and jackets though they did little good. “I am going to get a carriage. Try and keep Aramis awake if you can.” Athos said though d’Artagnan’s teeth were chattering so loudly he could barely hear him, but he nodded anyways. As Athos turned and ran off the young musketeer turned to his friend who had taken on a rather sickly shade of blue.

“Yo-o-or-r’e ins-s-sane.” He complained and somehow despite the near drowning and potential hypothermia Aramis smiled, though it was a rather fragile thing. “It was Porthos.”


End file.
